


Mr. Arch's Weird Rules for House Sitting

by CandyQueenAO3



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Crowley's Name is Never Mentioned, Dark Crowley (Good Omens), Ezra is Aziraphale, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mr. Arch is Gabriel, One of Them Isn't Tho, but it's him - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyQueenAO3/pseuds/CandyQueenAO3
Summary: Ezra is down on his luck and needs to come up with a few hundred pounds for rent in three days or he'll face eviction.  He answers an ad in the newspaper looking for a house sitter but when he shows up, he learns that the man who hired him has some very strange rules about the job...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 92





	Mr. Arch's Weird Rules for House Sitting

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in a bit of a writing rut lately, so I think writing this little one-shot will be JUST the thing to get me back into the swing of things for my various WIPS, collabs, and requests!

Ezra pulled his beat-up old car into the driveway of the house belonging to Mr. Gabriel Arch.

Well…

“House” was a bit of an understatement.

Mr. Arch owned what could only be described as a  _ mansion. _

The place was  _ massive,  _ with a large wraparound porch supported by doric columns giving the entire ensemble a strange Greco-Roman/Americana vibe that, in Ezra’s opinion, clashed terribly. The grass on the lawn was trimmed to perfection, and  _ had  _ to have been artificially dyed considering how green it was.

As he turned off his car’s engine, Ezra took another look at the newspaper ad he had clipped out yesterday morning.

_ In need of a house sitter for the evening. Will pay  _ **_extremely_ ** _ well. Contact Gabriel Arch at xxx-xxx-xxxx. _

Ezra glanced back up at the sprawling grounds before him and stuffed the ad into his pocket, climbing out of the car as he did so.

Sales at the bookshop he owned had been scarce as of late, and his savings were being rapidly drained. He had a buyer who’d expressed interest in purchasing one of his rarer tomes, but they wouldn’t be coming by for another week, and rent was due in three days.

Faced with eviction and losing his shop, Ezra had had little choice but to scan the personals section in the hopes of finding a quick temp job or two in order to make ends meet. Mr. Arch’s ad had been like a beacon from Heaven, and Ezra hadn’t hesitated to text the number provided.

Thus did he find himself picking up his overnight bag, climbing the steps to Mr. Arch’s manor, and ringing the doorbell.

Almost instantly, the door swung open and Ezra found himself being pulled inside by a harried-looking older gentleman. Mr. Arch was tall, and somewhat imposing, his dark hair shot through with streaks of grey that spoke of graceful aging. He was dressed in a perfectly-tailored suit the color of pale lavender that made the blue of his eyes look almost purple.

Ezra may have considered him handsome, were it not for the short, clipped way Mr. Arch had of speaking.

“Ezra, right? Good. Glad you’re here. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for my conference. Instructions are on the table. Call if you have any questions. Here’s your pay,”

Ezra didn’t even get the chance to say a single word before a large stack of notes was being pressed into his hands, totalling well over £1,000. The blond’s eyes practically bugged from their sockets.

“Th- this is too much!” he stammered out a protest. “I couldn’t possibly-”

Mr. Arch snatched up a suitcase and was already halfway out the door. “Take it. I’ll be back tomorrow around three.  _ Don’t forget the instructions on the table!” _

Ezra tried to protest once more, but Mr. Arch was already gone in a whir of frenzied movement, leaving his new house sitter all alone in the cavernous silence of his home. Ezra gaped at the notes in his hands for a moment, before slipping them into his bag in order to take stock of his surroundings.

He presently stood in what he could only assume to be the parlor. A thick Persian rug stretched from the entryway and into the corridor beyond and he followed it to where he hoped the dining room - and conversely, the table with his instructions - was.

Sure enough, it led to the room in question. It looked large enough to host at least twenty people, with a massive mahogany table which took up nearly the entire width of the space. Ezra wasn’t sure  _ what  _ Mr. Arch did, but whatever it was, it was lucrative.

In the middle of the table sat a single starch-white piece of cardstock, the words “Sitter Rules” written at the top in a flawless, looping script.

_ Sitter Rules: _

_ #1: Turn off your phone between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. If you need to use it for emergencies or to contact me during that time frame, step outside the house, lock the door behind you (spare key is under the fake rock labelled “Not Fake Rock”), walk down to the driveway, and call then.  _ **_MAKE SURE YOUR CALL IS NO LONGER THAN FIVE MINUTES. IT CAN MOVE THROUGH THE PHONE LINES._ **

Ezra didn’t bother to read the second rule, so caught up was he on the first. He read and reread it a third time just for good measure. Rule #1 was setting off cacophonous alarm bells in his head. Why was he forbidden from using his phone during that time frame? What was “it”? His first suspicion was for nefarious purposes such as kidnapping or murder, but the more he thought about it, the less those theories made any sense.

He read the rest of the rules in the hopes that they might shed a bit of light on his bizarre situation.

_ #2:  _ **_DO NOT UNLOCK THE BASEMENT DOOR. NO MATTER WHAT YOU HEAR FROM THE OTHER SIDE._ **

Ezra slammed the paper down on the table and clapped a hand over his mouth in shock. Just what the  _ Hell  _ had he gotten himself into?! He picked it up again in trembling fingers and read the rest.

_ #3: If you see the line of salt in front of the basement door become broken, be sure to re-salt it as soon as you can. Salt cans are in the pantry next to the activated almonds. _

_ #4: There’s a small bit of sage growing in a pot beside the basement door. Before you go to sleep tonight, please take some and rub it on the lintel of the basement door. _

_ #5: You can sleep in any bedroom you like. _

_ #6: Have fun :) _

Ezra set the instructions back down and fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt, glancing around the room. Just where was the basement? It wasn’t as if he had a map, so he was forced to wander through the mansion’s empty halls, looking for any door that might have fit the bill.

He was about to give up and return to the parlor so he could unpack his overnight bag when he finally spotted it.

The basement.

It stood alone at the end of the hall, the only furniture there being a small end table with a potted plant atop it.

_ “That must be the sage,”  _ thought Ezra, but that was all the mental energy he was willing to spend on the little plant.

The rest of his thought processes were consumed by trying to puzzle out the  _ bizarre  _ sight of the basement door.

The door looked like any other in the house, apart from one significant detail.

Strange symbols had been carved into the wood, not a single inch of its surface left unmarred. Ezra thought he could recognize a few of them from some of the more occult books in his shop, but the rest may as well have been in Cantonese for all he could read. His eyes drifted subconsciously down to the thick line of salt across the floor directly in front of it.

It was completely undisturbed although, the same couldn’t be said for Ezra.

He was half tempted to run right out of the house, leave the money, and take his chances with eviction. When he pictured his beloved shop left empty or - God forbid - rented to someone else, his resolve steeled.

It was just one night.

How bad could it be?

Preemptively, Ezra plucked a fistful of sage and began scrubbing it along the lintel of the door, leaving faint green streaks behind.

***~*~*~*~***

That night, frantic banging sounds jolted Ezra out of sleep and onto the floor. The cacophonous noise continued as he groped blindly for his phone to check the time. The screen remained dark and he, belatedly, remembered that he had turned it off before going to sleep, as per Mr. Arch’s instructions.

“Give me a moment, for pity’s sake!” Ezra shouted.

The banging stopped.

Then resumed with intensity, hardly pausing between impacts.

**_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG_ **

He snarled and pushed himself upright. Just who on Earth could possibly be visiting at  _ this  _ ungodly hour? He stumbled blearily into the hallway and was prepared to answer the front door and give whoever was on the other side the scolding of a lifetime, but froze when he realized something.

The knocking wasn’t coming from the front door.

It was coming from the  _ basement. _

Ezra gasped and stumbled against the wall. His entire body was wracked with terrified trembles. Had someone broken in?

The banging stopped suddenly and the silence it left in its wake was almost as deafening.

Then he heard it.

Scratching.

Something was clawing at the basement door in slow, even drags.

_ “Let me out,” _

Ezra couldn’t suppress a strangled half-shriek at that. The thing speaking from beyond the door sounded raspy, like its vocal cords had been rusted from disuse or shredded from overexertion. All the while, the scratching continued.

_ “Let me out. Jussssst open the door. Let me out…” _

Rule #2 flashed across Ezra’s mind and he feebly shook his head.

“N-no…” he stuttered. “I… I was specifically told to  _ never  _ open th-that door.”

The voice fell silent. For a moment, Ezra started to hope that  _ whatever  _ was on the other side had heard and respected his wishes.

He screamed outright when something heavy began slamming itself against the door over and over again so hard that the hinges rattled.

_ “Letmeoutletmeoutletmeout _ **_letmeoutletmeoutLETMEOUTLETMEOUT!!”_ **

Ezra dropped into a crouch with a feeble moan, his hands fisted into his curls. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears leaked from them to drip onto the floor.

Suddenly, as soon as it started, the screaming and banging stopped completely.

It was replaced with something that sounded like… sniffling.

Specifically, sniffling and  _ crying. _

_ “P-pleasssse…”  _ the thing in the basement keened.  _ “Please let me out. It’sss so cold in here. And dark. I- I haven’t ssssseen the sun in  _ **_years._ ** _ Please… please…” _

Its voice was so small and broken now, and sounded like it was coming from somewhere close to the ground; As if its owner had curled up on the floor. The naked pain from it caused Ezra’s heart to clench in sympathy.

“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly. “But I can’t.”

The thing didn’t scream and rage this time. It simply kept crying, albeit a bit harder. Deep down, Ezra knew he should just walk away. He should choose another room to sleep in that was far enough away that he didn’t have to hear the pitiful creature’s sobs. But then again, what if it wasn’t a  _ creature,  _ per se?

What if the thing in the basement was some poor, unfortunate person who Mr. Arch had trapped and imprisoned down there? It certainly wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. With that new horrific context in mind, Ezra felt a bolt of cold guilt and fear run through him. He scrambled for the door and twisted the small latch on it to unlock it.

“Don’t worry! I’m going to free you! I’m  _ so  _ sorry I didn’t do this sooner! I let my imagination run away with me and-”

He flung open the door and was met with a burst of scorching wind that felt like he’d stepped directly into an oven. He shielded his eyes with a cry and when it died down, he peered into the basement below.

Nothing.

No creature.

No captive.

Only a bare, empty room.

With an outraged shout Ezra slammed the door shut.

This was obviously some kind of prank! He didn’t know  _ what  _ Mr. Arch was playing at, but Ezra refused to allow himself to be made a fool for one moment longer! He stomped back to bed, fully intent on giving the other man a piece of his mind when he returned.

***~*~*~*~***

The following afternoon, Ezra stood in the parlor, checking his phone every so often for the time. Shortly after 3 p.m. rolled around, he heard the sounds of the front door opening and Mr. Arch stepped into the room, looking a little dishevelled from his trip. When he spotted Ezra, his face broke into a wide smile.

“Ah! Looks like everything’s in order! Nice job, kid!”

Ezra bristled at being called “kid”. He was nearly thirty!

“Everything is indeed ‘in order’,” he said cooly. “Though I must say, I do not appreciate being the victim of your cruel prank.”

Mr. Arch’s face fell slightly. “‘Prank’? What prank?”

Ezra sputtered, “The  _ basement!  _ I  _ know  _ there’s nothing down there! For God’s sake you made me think-”

The other man went from confused to enraged in half a second. He crossed the room and seized Ezra’s shoulders hard enough for his fingernails to bite into skin. The blond cried out in pain.

“You opened the  _ fucking door?!”  _ Mr. Arch snarled, nearly apoplectic with fury. “Do you have  _ any  _ idea what you’ve done?!” He shook Ezra for good measure, who grunted from the force of it.

The vice-like hands around Ezra’s shoulders disappeared as Mr. Arch made a mad dash for the kitchen.  _ “Shit!  _ I need to-”

His words were cut off with a scream as his feet were practically yanked out from underneath him by an invisible force. He landed hard on his front, but didn’t get a chance to stand back up. Ezra could only watch in petrified silence as Mr. Arch was dragged backwards down the hall towards the basement, as though he were being yanked along by a wire. The dark-haired man clutched desperately for anything to grab onto, but the hallway was devoid of furniture. He gave one final scream as he disappeared around a corner.

Ezra snapped out of his stupefaction and went to chase after him, but stopped when he heard what sounded like wet leather being ripped in half followed immediately by muffled crunching and snapping. The air instantly became heavy with a tangy, sour smell that had him staggering back against the table, mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

As fast as it started, the noise and smell disappeared as though they had never been there to begin with. Ezra pried his bloodless fingers off the table edge. He took a trembling step forward.

“M-Mr. Arch?” No reply. “Ga… Gabriel?”

The sound of footsteps cut through the silence and Ezra could feel the way his teeth rattled together from the force of his trembling.

A man stepped around the corner.

He was tall and rakishly thin, and dressed to the nines in a stylish black suit with blood-red accents. The small heels of his snakeskin boots clacked against the polished floor as he sauntered forward, slender hands stuffed into his pockets. One of them came up to artfully run through the shock of copper hair atop his head.

“Thanks for letting me out. I’ve been waiting for this day for a  _ long  _ time,” he said with a sibilant hiss.

All the colour drained from Ezra’s face.

“I-it’s  _ you,”  _ he whimpered, stumbling backwards.  _ “You  _ were the thing in the basement!”

The man - creature - laughed from somewhere deep in his throat. “Guilty as charged.” In a move that was more a slither than a lean, he caged Ezra against the table. “You  _ really  _ shouldn’t believe that salt and sage nonsense,  _ or  _ be taken in by a fake sob story.”

This close, the human could see needle-thin fangs and a pair of sulfur-yellow irises bisected down the middle like a snake’s.

Mr. Arch still hadn’t come back from around the corner. All at once, the realization that he had been tricked came down around Ezra’s shoulders. He tried to squirm away.

“P-please, let me go! I let  _ you  _ go, so g-g-give me the same mercy,” he pleaded.

The creature tilted his head inquisitively, his uncanny eyes tracking every line of the terrified face below him. Whatever he was looking for, he appeared to find it as a lazy, predatory smile crept across his face. A claw-tipped hand cupped Ezra’s chin with surprising tenderness, lifting his face so they could look each other in the eyes.

“Nah,” the creature said with chilling finality. 

“I think I’ll keep you.”


End file.
